A Day on the Bay Shore, 



still left are little crabs, holding up their 

 menacing pincers as we approach. Mini- 

 ature bubbling fountains indicate the 

 hiding-places of clams. The stingaree, 

 with its wicked tail, is lying in wait for 

 us in some of the basins of water, and 

 we shall do well to give him a wide 

 berth. 



It is a clear day in midwinter. The 

 low, matted marsh-grass is reddish 

 brown in color, contrasting with the 

 dull blue water of the bay, the light 

 green of the hills and the delicate, misty 

 blue of the far-away mountains. We 

 are soon conscious of the presence of 

 many birds upon the mud-flats. Great 

 flocks of sandpipers whirl past us, sud- 

 denly turning and flashing their white 

 breasts in the sun in the course of their 

 graceful evolutions. Curlews walk 

 about in the shallow water with their 

 long, slender, ungainly beaks seemingly 

 very much in the way. Now a gull 

 flaps calmly overhead, a duck whirs 

 past with rapid wing-strokes, and away 

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